


In Between Days

by WaxAgent



Series: Lovesong [3]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Mild group kissing, Multi, No Underage Sex, Polyamory, Richie and Eddie have a PDA PROBLEM, Underage Drinking, With everybody, all of the losers are over 18, allusion to a hair pulling kink, brief homophobic language, brief masturbation, emotionally manipulative parents, richie is very affectionate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-28 16:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12611136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaxAgent/pseuds/WaxAgent
Summary: Graduation is a miracle to Eddie Kaspbrak, but he has a laundry list of things to do; come out to his friends, to his mother, get into a college in Seattle.If only he could concentrate on anything other than Richie Tozier.





	1. In The Air Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is part three of my series, "Lovesong", and it will make much more sense if you've read the other parts first. However, it can certainly be enjoyed on its own, with minimal imaginative elbow grease. Thanks for reading!

“I hate it,” Eddie said vehemently. “I know you like it, I get _why_ you’d like it, but I _hate_ it.” 

“Calm down, Eddie Spaghet--“

Eddie whirled around; his cheeks were red, his eyes were furious, and the expression on his face was downright _dangerous_. “If you ‘Eddie Spaghetti’ me, Richard, I will _cut your fucking fingers off_.” 

Richie leaned back, his hands up in a gesture of supplication. “Okay, okay, baby. I…I can get new glasses.”

“That is NOT the fucking point!”

Richie’s brows furrowed. “Then I’m totally missing the point and you’re gonna have to help me out.”

“The point is that I fucking hate it.” Eddie pursed his lips and crossed his arms, glaring at his boyfriend. Richie’s nose was mostly healed from its’ break and, while he still bore a scattering of faded yellow bruises and healing scrapes across his sternum and neck, he was mostly recovered from the nightmarish encounter that they’d had with Victor Criss a little over four weeks ago. Richie’s glasses had been the only permanent casualty of that encounter; he sat now, his face open and attractive, with no glasses perched on the bridge of his long nose.

_Contact fucking lenses._

Richie smiled nervously at him. “I really thought you’d like it more than this. You’ve seen me without my frames like a hundred thousand times.” 

_Easy for him to say_. Every feature on Richie’s face was illuminated without the bulky spectacles from his childhood. He was delicate and structured at the same time, the freckles on his nose now prominently on display, and for the first time, his eyes were no longer the over magnified bug eyes that Eddie had fallen in love with. It was probably the first time Eddie had ever even thought about how sexy Richie’s _eyebrows_ were, Christ. 

Without his glasses, Richie Tozier was an unbearable _smokeshow_. 

“Yeah, when you’re sleeping. Not at school with no fucking warning, like today” Eddie hissed, his face still pink. “And, I do like it. That’s the goddamn problem.”

“You said you hated it--“

“I know what I said!” Eddie scrubbed his face with his hands. “Ugh.” He felt Richie’s hands tug at the hem of his polo shirt, bringing him close. He sighed and slipped into Richie’s lap with only minimal hesitation. 

“Give me a hint here, Eds,” Richie said. He ran his hands over Eddie’s back, soothing the tight muscles there. “I have no fucking idea how you feel right now. 

“You’re too much,” Eddie groaned. “You’re too much without your glasses.”

“Still not following,” Richie rubbed Eddie’s back and drummed the fingers of her other hand against his boyfriend’s thigh. His bitten fingernails were painted a light pink. 

“You’re. Too. Handsome.”

Richie raised his eyebrows. “This is a problem for you?”

“You’re distracting!” Eddie said, giving in and wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck. “Can’t you wait to make this very successful life change until after finals week is over? Just give me like five more days.”

“Mmm, can’t keep your gutter mind off of me?” Richie grinned, rocking Eddie to and fro. “Methinks this is a case of projection.”

“Excuse you?”

“You haven’t gotten your letter from Seattle,” Richie’s tone was gentle. He pulled Eddie closer and kissed his forehead. “And you’re worried about telling your mom that you’re moving. Coming out to the rest of the gang, like you said you wanted to do. And I guess finals are probably on the list, but like, down way farther.”

Eddie let out a heaving sigh. “Why haven’t I heard back from them yet? I heard back from U-Maine so fast.”

“It’s across the country. It takes time. I didn’t hear for almost two months.”

“Two months,” Eddie buried his face in Richie’s neck. He could feel anxiety closing in on him like four shrinking walls and he breathed deep and slow, trying to stave off an asthma attack. “What if I don’t hear back?”

“You will,” Richie assured him. “They’d be stupid not to want you.” 

Eddie felt a flutter of pride in his chest at his boyfriend’s praise. He kissed Richie’s neck and slid his nose up behind his boyfriend’s ear to mouth the skin there. He hardly even stopped to admire his boyfriend’s glorious cheekbones along the way, _fuck_. “They’ll want me…the way you want me?”

“They’d better not. I’ll have to kick that University’s fucking ass.”

“Mmn, I don’t think the whole state of Washington is any match for you.” Eddie felt his anxiety and stress slowly change shape in the pit of his stomach. He rocked his hips a little, and Richie’s hands slowly found their way underneath the back of his shirt. 

“These contacts are like catnip,” Richie muttered. “Hah- _ah_!” Eddie sucked hard at the side of Richie’s neck, nipping him with his teeth. “Eddie!”

“Yes?”

“You saucy little minx, I thought we said no marks?”

“Maybe I’m ready for everybody to look at you and know you’re mine,” Eddie said innocently. He sucked at a new part of Richie’s neck and slipped his hands up, undoing the two buttons on the collar of his own polo. He tugged the shirt over his head. “I want you to mark me up too,” he said, looking up at Richie from under his lashes, bare chested. “Maybe I want everybody who sees me to know I’m _yours_.”

Richie gaped at him. “You’re serious?”

“I’m very serious.”

Richie lifted Eddie and threw him back onto his bed, climbing over him. His mouth was attached to Eddie’s collarbone in two seconds flat and Eddie was groaning, his hands tangled in Richie’s hair.

It was only when Richie undid Eddie’s khakis and slid lower on the bed to take him into his mouth that Eddie could finally stop feeling like the world was going to end on graduation day. 

* * *

“I passed,” Eddie breathed, both of his hands pressed against his chest. “Rich!” He beamed over at his boyfriend, who grinned back. They were standing in front of a bulletin board in the front lobby of Derry High. Tacked to the brown cork board was a sheet labeled “PASSING SENIOR STUDENTS: CONGRATULATIONS!”, and Eddie could almost feel his name radiating from the paper. His heart raced. 

“Nobody ever doubted you, except you,” Richie said, hands stuck into the pockets of his ripped up grey jeans. “Proud of you, babe.” 

“Thank you,” Eddie beamed. He bumped his hip into Richie’s. “I think my head would’ve exploded if you weren’t there for me through all of this.”

“Weird,” Richie said. “I recall your head exploding about ten times between now and last Tuesday. _Oh_. We’re talking about two different heads.” 

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie couldn’t even fake being mad. He was over the moon, ecstatic. His road was clear and he had moved one step closer to Seattle, to _Richie_. His smile faltered, briefly, when he thought over the course of his next few days. “I have all of the hard stuff left.”

Richie made a tutting sound with his tongue. “We,” He reminded Eddie gently. “ _We_ have SOME hard stuff left, but tonight, we’re gonna go to Bill’s house and party with half of the senior class. We’re going to celebrate, and I’m going to get high, and drunk, and you’re going to judge me and laugh at my jokes, and maybe get a little loose.” Richie squeezed Eddie’s shoulders. “And tomorrow we’ll sleep in and then the day after we’ll get to work, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said, gazing up at Richie. He was completely lost in the other male, eyes soft. “You have to get your glasses back, because your eyes are way too powerful without them.” 

“Yeah?” Richie grinned, tugging Eddie in a little. “Behold, my mighty--“

“Excuse me?” A feminine voice asked from behind them, soft and coy. Richie turned around and blinked, looking down at the stunning blonde girl just behind him. It was Shawna Sanders. She was a catty girl, but ultimately relatively decent, and _popular_. She was by far and away the nicest cohort of Greta Keene, the reigning Bitch Queen of Derry, but at the end of the day, she was still a friend of Greta’s, and Eddie tarred her with that same brush. He disliked her even more, now, based on nothing more than the way that she looked up at Richie, with her wide eyes and sweet smile.

“Shawna?” Eddie asked. Richie still had a hand on his shoulder. “What do you want?” His tone must have been nastier than he’d meant it, because Richie gave his shoulder another gentle squeeze.

“Hi, yeah,” she said, still smiling and mostly ignoring Eddie. She tucked a lock of silky hair behind her ear, looking up at Richie with eyes that were almost as blue as Bill Denbrough’s. “So, congratulations. On your grades.”

“Thanks,” Richie said mildly.

“Greta’s having a party,” Shawna said to Richie. She smiled again; all of her teeth were perfect, white and straight and, in that moment, Eddie _hated_ her. “And she wants you to go, Richie.”

“Oh,” Richie blinked. He looked surprised. “Me? When?”

“Tonight.”

“And she wants _me_?”

“Yes. I mean, we all do,” Shawna giggled. “Are you in?”

“Oh, absolutely fucking not,” Richie laughed. Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, like, thanks, I guess.” 

“It’s gonna be fun,” Shawna said, her tone confused. “Are you worried about that other party, Bill Dipson’s?”

“Denbrough.”

“Bill Denbrough, whatever, nobody’s going to that one. Everybody’s going to Greta’s. And,” she smiled up at Richie again, uncertain this time. “I was hoping to go with _you_.” 

“Nah, listen,” Richie grimaced and shook his head. “You’re not as awful as most of your friends, so I’m gonna try not to tear you up too bad, but I’m just not interested. Just because I’m tall, and I lost baby fat in my face, and I have contacts, doesn’t mean I’m not a _loser_. In fact! Tell Greta that, wouldja? Tell her, ‘I asked Richie and he said he’d rather be a loser’.” 

Shawna pursed her lips and turned away, all niceties dropped. “Good looking or not, you can be a real asshole, Tozier. You could have just said no,” she said. She sulked off, her fists clenched at her side and her creamy skin blotched with embarrassment.

“A little harsh, maybe?” Eddie asked softly. He watched Shawna stalk off before looking up at Richie with a frown. 

“Nope!” Richie said, popping the p. “Remember what she did? Greta, not Shawna.”

“No?”

“She wrote loser on your cast, Eds! When you broke your arm. And it pissed me off, I’m still not over it. And Shawna was there after, and they all _laughed_ at you, all the time, and it made you feel so bad that I wanted to scream. So, NO, I will not play nice or go to her party because, as far as I’m concerned, Shawna’s guilty by association. And by action, Jesus! She put chewed gum on your cast, dude, when Greta held you down that one time! She’s lucky I don’t spit my Nicorette in her hair.”

“Oh woah,” Eddie blinked. “I didn’t know that you remembered any of that.” It was fuzzy for Eddie, still, but he could just barely make out the memory in his mind’s eye; a sharp, steep fall. He’d been lucky not to break his neck.

A sewer grate, or maybe a well?

Something…something about a _clown--_

_“I’m going to snap your arm into place!”_

_“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME--”_

“Well, I don’t remember how you broke your arm, specifically,” Richie admitted, jolting Eddie out of his reverie. “But I remember the aftermath, like…the broken twice part. The pins you had to get three years ago, I remember that. And I remember that cast bullshit, and how it _really_ bummed you out.” Richie scowled, crossing his arms. “So fuck that bitch. I don’t need their approval, never did. Neither do you.”

Eddie was touched. “Hey,” he soothed, running his hands up Richie’s arms. It took a second for Richie to unlock his stance and soften. “You’re right. Fuck that bitch.” Richie laughed and smiled down at Eddie. His gaze took on a more romantic edge and they stood together in calm silence for several moments, smiling like lovesick fools.

“Your hair,” Richie said softly. They were standing closer now, and Richie ruffled Eddie’s hair. His fingers lingered there, carding through the soft brown curls. “It’s getting out of control.” It was true. Eddie hadn’t gotten a hair cut in months, and the edges of his thick brown hair were starting to wave and curl. His mother hated it passionately, but Eddie loved it. They weren’t the silky, springy, raven colored curls that Richie effortlessly kept; his hair was softer, calmer, and every time Eddie caught his reflection in a mirror, he found himself smiling over it. He was a healthy tan color, short but sturdy, with happy hazel eyes and wavy brown hair, and he was realizing for the first time in his life that he liked what he saw in himself when he looked in the mirror. 

“It’s jealous of your hair,” Eddie said, caught up completely. For a moment, he ignored the milling seniors around them, caught up in the magnetic pull of Richie Tozier.

“I’ve always loved your hair,” Richie said. “The way it gets all flippy.”

“Flippy?”

“Flippy,” Richie said, and then he pulled Eddie into a tight hug. Eddie wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and let himself be held. Nobody seemed to pay them any extra attention, and Eddie felt free.

* * *

“This party is fucking out of control,” Stan said calmly, sipping on his beer. He and Eddie stood behind a swath of people in Bill’s backyard, their backs against the siding of the Denbrough house. Bill’s yard was mobbed with graduating seniors. Beer bottles littered the ground, and catchy, danceable music flooded the space. “How does Bill always get his parents to let him throw these things?”

“I think he treats it like a magic trick,” Eddie said, smiling. “He tells them it’ll be us and about five other people, they leave for the night, he blows the roof off, and we all help him clean before they get back on Sunday night.”

“Yeah, except that for the last one. You and Richie bailed after his birthday bash,” Stan finished off his drink and set the bottle down neatly against the edge of the house, where he’d been lining up his and Eddie’s empties for the last two hours. 

“Well,” Eddie flushed, remembering exactly how his night had escalated after Richie’s birthday party. “H-he was drunk, you know. Way drunk.”

“We were all drunk.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Mmmhm,” Stan smirked. “So you, the only one sober enough to attend to the duties of friendly cleanliness--“

“We kissed,” Eddie felt his face go hot and red. Stan stopped talking, his eyes wide. “Me…me and Richie. That night. The following morning, whatever. But that night was when, you know. We had stuff to figure out.”

“Oh.”

“We kissed and we’ve been dating since then. Kind of. I asked him out and he said yes, so. Dating.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m gay.”

“Yeah, I mean, I inferred.”

“It doesn’t,” Eddie groaned, embarrassment hot under his collar. “It doesn’t make you mad?”

“What?” Stan said. His brows were furrowed. He picked at his cuticle nervously. “Why on Earth would I be mad?”

“Because I didn’t tell you,” Eddie said softly. “Because I kept a secret from you. And I made Richie keep a secret, too, by proxy, because he wanted to tell all of you and I made him promise to wait--“

“Eddie, Eddie,” Stan waved his hand, shushing the smaller man. “Eddie, _I’m_ gay.”

Eddie blinked. “Wait--“

“And I haven’t told you because it doesn’t change anything,” Stan said softly. “It doesn’t change anything about the way you all feel about me.” Stan stopped picking at his nails and ran his hand gently over the top of Eddie’s head. “Just like it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Or the way I feel about Richie.”

“Constantly irritated?”

“Highly,” Stan agreed, laughing. “But hey,” Stan’s tone went serious again, and Eddie swallowed hard. “I understand that you were scared, and maybe you still are, but when you feel like you can’t be open with the world…you can be whoever you want to be with us.”

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered. He felt a sort of shamed gratitude, like somebody who had been given a great gift that they felt they could never repay.

Stan waved his hand again. “Don’t thank me for being a decent human.”

“Bill said something like that when I told him a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” Stan said, dryly. “And why exactly do you think that is?” Eddie looked at him, comprehension dawning over his face. 

“Hang on,” but Stan just shook his head, eyes twinkling. 

“Eddie!” A voice cried out, “Eddie Kaspbrak, you cute little motherfucker!” Eddie turned and his heart leapt into a steady thrum when he saw Beverly Marsh cutting through the crowd towards him and Stan, Ben just behind her elbow. 

“Bev!” Eddie exclaimed. He opened his arms and Bev threw herself against his chest, covering his face in kisses. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Yesterday was my last day, and Portland is only two hours away,” Bev smiled. She released Eddie and stood back, taking him in fully, her hands on his shoulders. Her hair was growing out and beginning to curl, like his. It surrounded her face in a copper gold halo, and the twilight made her look especially ethereal. “You look cute. Are those the same shorts you had when you were fourteen?”

“Nu-OH,” Eddie groaned, pulling the refusal out into two syllables. Bev giggled. “You know they’re new. The old ones stopped fitting, like, two years ago, and these aren’t even that short, it’s like you’re getting conversation cues from Richie--“

“Richie IS always talking about your thighs,” Ben said. 

“BEN.”

“Well, he is,” Ben grinned, shrugging. “He’s always saying something about them being ‘thick’. Whatever that means. But I think he likes it.” Eddie gaped like a fish out of water. “I mean,” Ben clarified, looking at Bev for support. His cheeks had gone ruddy and he crackled his knuckles nervously, looking for all of the world like he wished he could take back the last sixty seconds. “I think he likes _you_ \--“

“You didn’t spoil any secrets, Ben, we’re dating,” Eddie said swiftly. 

“Shit,” Ben sighed, relief evident over his features. “Good. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think--”

“It’s okay, honestly! We’ve been seeing each other for three months. But this is the first I’m hearing about my…thickness?”

“Please, let’s not talk about thickness,” Stan said.

“Ah,” Ben nodded. “Okay, but…only three months, really?” 

“Yeah. Why?”

“Richie’s just talked about you for so long, and it just seems like you’ve always been the same, you know. Together.”

“No,” Eddie said, “you’re confusing dating with Richie’s inability to respect the personal space of others.” Beverly laughed, wrapping her arms around Ben, and Ben beamed like the sun itself, sliding an arm around Beverly in turn. “And,” Eddie hesitated and continued slowly. “I’ve liked Richie for a long time. A really long time. I was just scared.”

“I understand,” Ben said softly. “I really do.” He looked at Beverly with deep emotion and smiled. “I understand better than anybody.”

“I know you do,” Eddie said softly. He grabbed Ben’s hand suddenly, on impulse, and Ben pulled Eddie into a hug, pressing him and Beverly against his broad chest. Eddie grinned, blushing. “You want in on this, Stanley?”

Smiling, Stan shook his head. “I’ll bask in the love from over here, thank you.” 

“The right things always work out, Eddie,” Beverly smiled up at him, cocooned in Ben’s arm and his over-large hoodie. She leaned up and kissed him, softly, at the corner of his lips. 

“Always, huh,” Eddie smiled, leaning his head on Ben’s collar. “Love your attitude, Bevvie.”

“Sweet friendship corner, nerds!” Richie bellowed. He ran up and practically crashed into his four friends; he had one arm around Bill’s neck and the other around Mike’s, and he wore a garish pink and orange bowling shirt over a plain blue t-shirt. His smile was lopsided and his face was, of course, free of any glasses.

“Speak of the devil,” Stan said.

“Shut up, Rich,” Ben said mildly. Richie blinked.

“No,” Richie said. “I mean it’s really actually sweet, I like it,” He stooped in to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and tugged him away from Ben, very gently. Eddie moved fluidly against his boyfriend and Richie rested his chin on the top of Eddie’s head in turn. “I mean, we brought you guys beer so, obviously, we’re here for some sweet loving.” He passed a beer to Eddie and sipped his own, leaving Mike and Bill to distribute the rest of the drinks. 

“Beverly,” Mike enveloped Beverly in a bear hug, holding both of their beers. “It is sweet,” he asserted, smiling. “It’s a full on reunion. Missed you, Bev, so much.”

“I missed you too,” Bev blushed, beaming at her boys. “You all get so much more handsome every time I see you. It’s crazy.”

“Except Richie,” Stan smirked, sipping his beer. “Richie peaked.”

“Oh, Stan the Man, I’ll show you _peaking_ \--“

“Cheers to that,” Ben raised his beer up and everybody followed suit. Eddie shoved his beer into Richie’s mouth while he was still talking, hastily cutting off any continued conversations about his “peaking”. Richie sputtered and then raised his brows, sliding his lips obscenely down the neck of the bottle before tilting his head back and taking a long sip. He slipped back off with a sigh, and winked at Eddie, handing him back his drink. 

“Stop it,” Eddie hissed. “You’re vile.”

“Oh, _baby_ ,” Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s hair. “If I’m so vile, why do you smell like my shampoo?”

“I used it this morning.”

“I love when you smell like me,” Richie hummed. He adjusted Eddie’s collar a little and grinned at the faded bruises on his lover’s neck. “Nice,” he whispered. “Dance with me?”

“No way, Richie,” Eddie said flatly. 

“You WOUND me!”

“Please stop screaming,” Stan said. 

“We’re outside, STANLEY, I can use my outside VOICE.” 

“You’re using your wide open galaxy voice,” Mike said brightly. 

“Dance with me, Eds,” Richie swayed Eddie in his arms. “Come on!”

“Don’t take it personal, I’m not going to dance with anybody.” 

“I-I’ll dance with you Rich,” Bill smiled and drained down his beer. He was flushed and grinning, his flannel shirt unbuttoned over a bright white t-shirt. Eddie watched him stumble with no small level of astonishment; Bill was _drunk_.

“Yes, God!” Richie kissed Eddie on the cheek with a loud smacking sound and beelined over to Bill, yanking him by both hands into the dancing throng of teenagers. 

“Seriously, Bill?” Stan called after them, one eyebrow raised.

“I _love_ Salt-N-Pepa,” Bill admitted with a bashful smile.

“He just wants to shoop, Stan!” Richie laughed, twirling Bill. 

“So,” Mike asked gently, turning to Eddie. “You and Richie?”

“It’s a thing,” Eddie smiled. Mike had always seemed to exert an otherworldly calm over the group and Eddie felt it now, keenly, like somebody had picked the two of them up and out of the wild party and had set them aside to be quiet and alone. It was because of this that Mike’s acceptance had seemed like a given to him, almost moreso that any of his other friends, and Eddie felt a tidal wave of peace wash over him. His friends all knew, now. No more secrets between the most important people in his life.

“Good for you,” Mike said. He pulled Eddie into a firm hug. “Love you both. I’m happy for you.” Eddie felt surprising tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, and he hugged Mike back just as tightly. He felt a small hand rubbing his back- Beverly, he knew on instinct- and he allowed himself a moment there, afloat in the love of his best friends. 

“Richie and Bill are going to make fools of themselves,” Bev said happily. “Eddie, you’re missing the best part of this party.” Eddie looked up in time to see Richie twirl Bill again and pull him in tight, rocking their bodies together. Richie was laughing as Bill talked to him, words that Eddie couldn’t make out over the bump and grind beat of the music. They had caught the attention of a lot of people standing beside them, and there was even some scattered applause as Richie dipped Bill and yanked him back up to sway with him, their hips touching. Eddie felt his mouth go dry as he watched, and, distantly, he heard Stan roughly gulp down the rest of his beer. It didn’t make Eddie jealous; Eddie didn’t even know if he was capable of that feeling where his friends were concerned. Instead, a slow curl of heat rippled through his lower belly as he watched Richie’s hips move, transfixed and flushed, blinking rapidly. 

“They’re gonna start fucking through their clothing if they aren’t careful,” Stan said lightly. “I hope they’re wearing condoms.” Eddie looked over at him, dazed. Stan’s cheeks looked as red as his felt. He caught Eddie’s eye and grimaced, turning away. 

Richie cupped the back of Bill’s head and tilted his own, whispering down into Bill’s ear. It was Bill’s turn to laugh, then, and the song changed to an uptempo, disco number; Bill turned around and fitted his back against Richie’s chest. They kept grooving, Richie’s knees a little bent to accommodate the difference in their heights. Bill tilted his head back onto Richie’s shoulder, his eyes closed and a smile on his face. 

“That’s, uh,” Mike started and stopped. He looked at Stan over Eddie’s head, helplessly. Stan shrugged.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Stan whispered. “He’s a tease.”

“Wait,” Eddie said, rapidly looking between Stan and Mike. “What--“

“Well, Beaver-ly,” a voice behind them sneered. The five of them turned around so fast that Eddie thought they were at risk for whiplash; Greta Keene stood behind them, her face screwed into a sour expression. “Isn’t this a shitty surprise? I thought your friends would never find you at the bottom of the garbage heap. Since, you know, you blend in so well.”

“Fuck off, bitch!” Beverly said brightly. She flicked ash from her cigarette at Greta.

Greta’s scowl deepened, but she otherwise ignored Bev. Her arms were crossed and she looked downright _pissed_ to be in Bill’s backyard. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Richie and Denbrough are total fags. Most guys would have jumped at the chance to try to score with Shawna. Not Tozier.” She gestured at the dancing crowd where Richie and Bill were taking turns twirling and dipping each other.

“Why don’t you take Bev’s advice and get to somewhere you’re wanted,” Ben said, and a ripple ran through the small group; it was about the angriest thing they had ever heard Ben say, to anyone, under all circumstances.

“Well, fuck you,” Greta hissed at Ben. “Just because you lost a couple of pounds, you think that gives you the right can say anything you want to a lady?”

“No,” Ben said calmly. “But I’ll let you know when I see a lady.” He paused and looked down at Bev, who was smiling up at him. “Present company very excluded.”

“I’m no lady,” Bev smirked and took a drag off of her cigarette. “Present company is unoffended.”

“Well, I’m deeply offended,” Greta said, her eyes flashing with thinly contained rage. “By those fucking queers. Honestly, I was curious about why everybody was here at Stuttering Bill’s party and not _mine_ , but now I get it. It’s all to watch a couple of homos--“ Greta cut herself off with a scream, her shirt suddenly soaked; directly in front of her, Eddie was leaned forward on one foot, his arm extended, holding an empty bottle. He had doused her with the entirety of his full beer. 

“Oops,” Eddie said. “Spilled my beer.” 

“You fucking girly BITCH,” Greta growled, sopping wet. Eddie grabbed Ben’s neglected beer and threw that in her direction, too, and she shrieked again, jumping back.

“Oops,” Eddie said. “Spilled Ben’s beer.”

“I thought the Wicked Witch was supposed to melt,” Stan observed. “Hey, no way,” he said, pulling his beer away from Eddie’s reaching hand. “That’s a waste of good beer.” 

Mike laughed and handed Eddie his beer instead. Eddie held it up, smiling sharply. “It’s a shame they keep giving me drinks. I’m a terrible klutz.” He took a step forward and Greta backed up warily, looking between the five of them. 

“Fine,” she hissed, wringing out her ruined shirt. “ _None_ of you are welcome at my fucking party.”

“Well, thank God for that,” Mike said as Greta stormed off. “The real punishment would have been having to go.”

“Eddie, you’re my hero!” Beverly exclaimed. “That was incredible!”

“Hold that thought,” Eddie said. He shot back Mike’s beer and stormed into the dancing crowd with purpose. “Hey, Rich,” He grabbed the back of Richie’s awful shirt and tugged twice, sharply. 

Richie turned around, a surprised smile on his lips, and Eddie hauled him down, furiously, and kissed him square on the lips. Depeche Mode blared around them and the reality of Eddie’s actions felt thick and pervasive- he was outing himself, outing Richie, to almost everybody that they knew. His heart raced wildly as he kissed the shocked man; he was kissing Richie he wanted to, sure, but he also kissed him, because…because how _dare_ Greta fucking Keene belittle Richie for anything? Richie, who had stood up for him, Richie, who would never dream of betraying any one of his friends for even a single second? Richie, who, despite his bad jokes and his lame puns and his overabundance of energy, was a _good_ man, the best one that Eddie knew? Richie, who Eddie was deeply, irrevocably in love with? 

If Greta was going to call Richie names, was going to slander the man that Eddie loved, then Eddie would want nothing more than to wear the same badge of shame- no, a badge of _honor_ \- right at his side. 

The crowd around them hung in a shocked silence for a single breath, and then the din was deafening. Cheers and applause erupted all around them as Eddie swallowed Richie’s shocked gasp. In a split second, Richie was all active response; he hauled Eddie up into his arms, and Eddie swung his legs around his waist. Richie had one hand underneath Eddie’s ass, supporting him, and he did a lame little twirl while they kissed, staggering slightly. Eddie held on for dear life, laughing into Richie’s mouth, very certain that this was the happiest he had ever been, and the bravest he had ever felt.


	2. I'm A Man

Eddie woke up cocooned in Richie’s arms, with Richie’s hands on his stomach and Richie’s mouth on his neck. “A-ah,” he whispered. 

“Shhh,” Richie cautioned him, his smile pressed warmly into Eddie’s neck. They were by themselves for the moment, but they were also still on the floor of the den in the Denbrough home and anybody could be waking up to hear them. “G’morning, baby,” Richie murmured, his lips now tracing Eddie’s pulse point. His hands slipped lower, down to Eddie’s thighs, rubbing slowly. “Mmm, I sleep so good next to you.”

“Morning Rich,” Eddie smiled, his eyes still closed. He tilted his head and Richie’s kisses deepened until he was sucking, his tongue and teeth quickly getting Eddie overheated. Eddie whined, pushing at his boyfriend’s face. “ _Richie_.”

“Mmmn,” Richie hummed, tonguing up to Eddie’s ear. Eddie groaned. “You’re so fuckable first thing in the morning.” He cupped Eddie through his briefs and Eddie let his head loll back, moaning softly. “Always so hard right away, Jesus, Eds.”

“Shut up,” Eddie snapped, but there wasn’t any real bite to it. He tilted his head and kissed Richie deeply, working his hips against Richie’s hand. “Are you still drunk?”

“Li’l bit,” Richie admitted, biting Eddie’s bottom lip. Richie tasted like beer and cigarettes and he smelled like a campfire. Eddie loved him anyway. “Eddie, baby, you feel so good.” Richie gave him a _squeeze_ and Eddie whimpered, his body hot. 

“Let me blow you,” Eddie said in a rush. He hadn’t gone down on Richie, not yet, but he felt terribly bold and wildly horny. They had kissed for almost the whole party the night before, with no ultimate purchase; they had simply been too drunk. “Roll over.” Richie was eager to comply and Eddie felt a thrill when he climbed on top, feeling Richie’s ready body and his hardness contained beneath him. He pulled their blanket up onto his shoulders, hiding them from any possible prying eyes. 

“You’re the fuckable one, you know,” Eddie breathed, and he meant it. Richie looked wanton; his lips were bite swollen and red, and his cheeks were flushed. Healing hickies were dotted across his throat and bare chest. Absently, Eddie reached down to rub himself through his briefs, sucking in his bottom lip while he observed his boyfriend. 

Richie’s breath hitched while he watched Eddie with a naked, hungry gaze. He took Eddie’s free hand and pulled his fingers into his mouth, laving his tongue across the first three and _sucking_. 

“Can you get yourself ready?” Richie asked around Eddie’s fingers. He was already panting lightly. “While you suck my dick? I…I want to watch. I want to see how you do it when you’re thinking of me.” 

“Always thinking of you,” Eddie moaned, watching Richie redouble his efforts on his fingers, feeling his tongue teasing the sensitive pads of his digits. “Richie, I--“

They heard a set of soft footsteps, and Richie swore viciously, practically spitting out Eddie’s fingers. He yanked Eddie down and pulled the blanket over them even further, almost concealing them entirely. Eddie yelped, his face crushed against Richie’s chest, and waited against his boyfriend with baited breath. He wiggled nervously and Richie hissed, reaching down with both hands to seize Eddie’s hips.

“Do _not_ ,” he warned, looking at Eddie severely. “Unless you really want to get your freak on in front of whoever that is.” 

“Morning douchebags,” Stan breezed, waltzing his way into the den. Eddie heard more than he saw Stan throwing open the drapes, the soft thump of his feet on the carpet, the sarcastic hum of his voice. “Get your asses up, we’ve gotta clean.”

“Stanley,” Richie groaned, squinting in the fresh wash of morning light. “Why, Stanley? _Why_?”

“It’s eight,” Stan said. Eddie peeked up and noticed that Stan looked satisfied and well rested, a fresh purple mark glaring low on the side of his neck. Stan saw him looking and grinned, shooting Eddie a quick wink. 

“We went to bed at five, _Satan_ ,” Richie whined, rubbing his hands over his face. “Ow, Jesus, I think I fell asleep with my contacts in.”

“Don’t fuck on the floor!” Stan reminded them, striding out of the room. “I’ll be back to check on you guys in ten, don’t worry!”

“Well. That killed the mood,” Eddie said plainly. Beneath him, Richie nodded frantically. “Get up, Richie.” Richie glared and dropped his hands off of his face. “Don’t be petulant, get up.” Eddie stood and stretched, trying to focus on anything other than his boner. He tugged on Richie’s old blue t-shirt and his own shorts from the day before. “Rich. Up.”

Richie grunted. He rolled over onto all fours and then stood, stumbling a little. He was still fairly drunk, Eddie noticed; it was obvious in the spread of his arms for balance and in the sway of his steps. Richie turned around, grinning at Eddie, and Eddie’s heart did a somersault. He opened his arms and, like magnets pulled together, Eddie fell against him. 

“My perfect, sexy, adorable Eddie, in _my_ shirt,” Richie purred. Eddie blushed, leaning up to accept a kiss. “God, how much I fucking love you, you don’t even know. Fuck Stan, let’s do it on the floor right no--”

“What?” Eddie stepped back, eyes wide. 

“…What?” Richie blinked. After a second, the color drained from his cheeks. His hands absently roved over the edges of his face and he dropped them uselessly when he found no glasses there to fidget with. “I said,” he started slowly, eyes darting to the side. “God, how I tower above you, you’re…so…short, fuck Stan, let’s--”

Eddie stared at Richie. “You can’t be serious right now. Richard Tozier, I _swe_ \--“

“I love you,” Richie said. He nodded with a nervous finality. “Yeah. That’s. That’s what I said.” He paused, nodded again, and turned out to walk into the kitchen in his boxers. 

Eddie gaped, unable to will himself to move forward. He could see across the foyer and into the kitchen in a sort of tunnel vision; Richie running his hands through his hair, filling the coffee pot with water and ground beans, biting his lip. It spurred his legs into motion and he hustled into the kitchen after his boyfriend, grabbing Richie’s arm and spinning him around. Richie looked vulnerable and scared, his brown eyes wide, and Eddie surged up to meet his lips with no delay. Richie flung his arms around Eddie and kissed him back desperately, clinging to him like a drowning man on a life raft.

“Do you mean it?” Eddie whispered. His voice was shaky. “Richie, tell me you mean it.”

Richie nodded, brushing back Eddie’s messy hair. “Almost since the day I met you,” he said, and Eddie felt his world split and magnify, and everything that wasn’t Richie or himself fell away. 

“Ah,” Eddie said. He felt Richie press their foreheads together and he felt his throat tighten and his chest lurch. “Richie, I…” his voice broke , and he looked up. Richie’s gaze was fixed on his, unwavering. “I love you too. Richie--“

“ _Eddie_ ,” Richie squeezed Eddie and lifted him clear off of the ground. He sat Eddie on the countertop and Eddie yanked Richie into another embrace with his legs. “I love you so much,” He crashed their lips together and Eddie whimpered, burying his hands into Richie’s hair.

“Fuck, Rich,” he said, his voice high and breathless. “Fuck it,” he laid back and Richie went with him, his clever hands working up underneath Eddie’s shirt. “Right here on the counter, I need you. _Now_.”

Richie nodded and yanked Eddie to the edge of the countertop. “Stan said he’ll be back in ten,” he said, pressing his mouth to Eddie’s neck. “I can make you come twice in six.” Eddie whined, arching his body, and Richie let out a breathless laugh against his neck. “Fuck, I lo--“

“Coffee’s on, huh?” Ben bounded into the kitchen in his boxers and a baggy t-shirt, cheerful. He stopped dead in the doorway, his eyes as wide as plates. “Am….am I interrupting?”

“…No,” Richie cleared his throat. He kissed Eddie again on the lips, rubbing his thumb over his flushed cheek, and leaned back up. Eddie hastily adjusted his shirt and sat up with him. “Coffee is absolutely on, my main man Haystask. Only because I know how much you like it.”

“Okay,” Ben said, warily entering the room. He rummaged through Bill’s cupboards, trying to scavenge out enough clean mugs, and carefully avoided looking at the disheveled couple sprawled across the counter behind him. 

“Will thine lady fair be joining us for a hot brew?” Richie leaned, still in between Eddie’s legs. Eddie sat up and kissed the top of Richie’s head and Richie reached back, rubbing his arm firmly. 

“Oh yeah,” Ben said. “She’s smoking. She’ll be inside in a minute.”

“Did you guys have a fun night?”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Ben said, but he was smiling bashfully. The delighted flush across his cheeks and the tousled state of his sandy hair told Eddie everything that he needed to know about Ben’s night. 

“Did you tell her you love her?” Richie asked. Eddie felt his breath catch; Richie was holding his calves now, his thumbs rubbing along the lengths of Eddie’s thin ankles. 

Ben looked at Richie, confused. “She knows,” he said. “She’s always known. Here, Richie,” Ben handed him a steaming mug. “Black, three sugars?”

“Black, three sugars,” Richie smiled. He took the steaming mug in between both of his long hands. “You’re a shining star, Ben.”

“You got that in one,” Beverly said. She flowed into the kitchen like fresh air, wearing Ben’s Letterman jacket over a tanktop and boyshorts. Her hair was messy, and she looked exceptionally pleased. “Is there coffee, Ben?”

“Already ready for you; black, nothing in it,” Ben said, handing Beverly the biggest mug on the counter. She beamed at him, and leaned up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. 

“Oh well, good morning, gorgeous!” Richie opened his arms. “Some of us are waiting for our good morning hugs.”

“Richie, I can only touch you post-coffee,” Bev said, blowing on her coffee. She drank it almost instantly, sighing in extreme satisfaction as the steam curled around her face. “You’re quiet this morning, Eddie.”

“Crazy night,” Eddie said faintly. “I mean, we’re done with high school. I just can’t believe it.” _I love you_ , rang in his ears, Richie’s voice stuck in his head. _Almost since the day I met you._

Something of his residual shock must have shown on his face because in a matter of seconds, both Bev and Richie have set their mugs down and turned to him. Richie lifted him off of the counter and Beverly’s arms were suddenly wrapped around his waist from behind, her head pressed in between his shoulder blades. Richie’s warm hands cupped his cheeks and his lips pressed softly against Eddie’s. Eddie melted between them. He rested his hands on Beverly’s and kissed Richie back lightly. 

“We made it,” Bev said, kissing Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s okay to feel strange, or numb, or excited. Or a combination of all of it.”

“It’s all valid,” Ben agreed, draining the rest of the coffee pot into Beverly’s mug, topping her off. He busied himself making a new pot, humming. 

“I know just what you need,” Bev said, kissing Eddie’s cheek. She let Eddie go and moved over to the fridge and in two seconds Richie had his hands over Eddie’s back, supporting him against his chest. They kissed again softly, with Eddie arched up onto his tiptoes, his lips parted. Richie hummed and tilted his head, licking gingerly over Eddie’s tongue and Eddie let out a soft, shuddering breath, clutching at Richie’s shoulders.

“Less than twelve hours of knowing that you’re together and we already have to have the PDA talk,” Ben said, laughing. Bev wolf whistled, grinning, and pulled a container of orange juice out of the fridge. 

“Oh,” Eddie blinked, looking up at Richie with hazy eyes. “U-um, sorry guys. Sorry.” He rubbed over Richie’s broad shoulders and arms, grimacing. He went to pull back and Richie kissed him again with a wide smirk, briefly, before releasing him. 

“Well, one of us is sorry,” Richie picked his mug back up and offered Eddie a sip. Eddie wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “C’mon, Eds, it’s good for you.”

“There’s no written rule that as soon as you hit puberty, you have to like coffee.”

“Stan doesn’t drink coffee either,” Ben added. “He only takes tea.”

“Yuppie British dirt water,” Richie sighed. “Two lost causes, here, amongst our very own.”

“Eddie’s obviously a man of different tastes,” Bev laughed. 

“Sophisticated tastes!” Richie shouted, indicating himself.

“Yeah, no. Here.” She handed Eddie a mug with his usual morning drink: orange juice. Eddie took it and sipped, frowning. He licked his lips.

“What is this?” Eddie asked. He took another sip. 

“It’s a mimosa,” Beverly said wisely. She was pulling bottles out of Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough’s liquor cabinet, and she poured a heaping serving of Kahlua into her coffee before passing the bottle off to Richie. “We’re still celebrating.”

“C-Celebrating?” Bill said, ruffling his hair as he walked into the room. Like Richie, he was only in his boxers. “Still?” He kissed Beverly’s cheek and nudged past her, grabbing a fifth of vodka. “No more K-Kahlua?”

“Get your own, Denbrough,” Richie grinned. “Though, you in those boxers does kind of put me in a sharing mood.”

“I hope there’s coffee for everybody,” Mike said. He was shirtless too, with a pair of basketball shorts low on his hips. Stan walked in just after him, fully dressed.

“More than enough,” Ben said. “I’m making a second pot. Stan, I have the kettle on for you.”

Stan looked touched. “Thank you.” Eddie watched the three newcomers pick out their mugs. He didn’t miss the way that Mike’s hand ghosted over the small of Bill’s back, or the way that Stan’s fingers brushed Mike’s when he copied the gesture, his hand fleeting but confident. Bill looked warm and sated between them, a happy smile on his lips. He leaned back against Mike and kissed his shoulder, very lightly. 

Eddie smiled into his drink, happy down to his toes. 

* * *

“Okay,” Beverly said, after hours of drinking and breakfast. It was already well past noon, and nobody had even so much as mentioned the need to clean Bill’s house. They were aimless and complete at the same time, the seven of them all floating in each other’s orbit around, passing drinks and pieces of toast. They had migrated upstairs to Bill’s room and they sat in a circle on the floor in an explosive nest of blankets and pillows. Beverly licked the paper in her hand and rolled a blunt, her fingers meticulous while she spoke to them. “So, it’s the moment of truth. You take a hit and pass it, and you say where you’re going to college.” She lit up, inhaled and waited, before exhaling with a huff. 

“Fashion Institute of Technology,” she said. “New York City.” The boys applauded her accordingly. 

“That’s amazing,” Eddie said, wide eyed. He was holding his fifth mimosa. “Can we visit?”

“Only if Richie behaves,” Bev grinned, passing the joint to Ben. 

Eddie turned to Richie, a horrified look on his face. “Behave,” he whispered. Richie laughed.

“No promises,” he winked.

“University of Illinois at Chicago for architecture,” Ben said, breathing smoke out through his nose. “Chicago, of course.” 

He handed off the joint to Mike, who took it, grimacing. He hit it and coughed a little as he said, “U-Maine, Castle Rock. Undeclared, but probably history.” 

Bill took the blunt and sucked down a substantial hit. “Mm. University of Washington at S-Seattle,” he said. “Creative writing and fine arts--“

“No shit!” Richie exclaimed. “Bill--“

Bill grinned at him. “Wait your turn, Richard.”

Stan accepted the blunt from Bill, taking a hit. “The Ziegler School for Rabbinical Studies,” he said. “Los Angeles.”

“You want to be a rabbi?” Ben asked. “I didn’t know that.”

Stan shrugged. “I want to be a veterinarian, actually, but since my dad’s a rabbi, I can go to Ziegler for free. It seemed like a good place to start. They offer some basic stuff to get me ready for pre-med.” 

Richie was practically vibrating by the time Stan passed the turn over to him. He took a deep hit and blew the smoke out like a steam engine, beaming. “University of Washington at Seattle!” he announced. “Music production and drama!”

“You can say that again,” Stan rolled his eyes. 

“Music production and drama!” Richie said again, loudly. “Eds, baby,” Richie passed the joint to Ed, who shook his head. 

“I have asthma, Richie,” he said plaintively. “You know that.”

“Hmm,” Richie paused. “Ooh! Hang on, I know a way.”

“Can’t I just say my school without smoking?”

“I don’t make the rules, Eds, I just enforce ‘em. Open your mouth.” Richie took a second hit and passed the joint over Eddie to Bev. He leaned in and cupped Eddie’s cheeks and Eddie’s eyelashes fluttered when Richie pressed their lips together slightly, breathing the smoke from his mouth into Eddie’s. Eddie inhaled, kissing Richie deeply halfway through. He sighed into Richie’s mouth, trading the smoke back, and sucked Richie’s bottom lip as he pulled back, looking up at Richie from under his lashes. 

“Mmn,” Richie grinned, stealing another kiss with a nip to Eddie’s bottom lip. “Go on, baby, tell them all.”

“University of Washington, Seattle,” Eddie said dreamily, eyes fixed on Richie’s lips. “Undeclared.” 

“Okay!” Richie clapped his hands, and Eddie blinked rapidly, looking away. “We have a home base. Seattle, great.”

“I always pegged you for a LA person, to be honest. With your music and your comedy,” Mike said to Richie.

“Yeah, but Seattle has _grunge music_ ,” Richie said. 

“It’s right by the ocean, only a couple of hours in,” Bill said, looking at Mike. “You can visit all of the time. All of you.”

“In fact,” Richie said loftily. “All of your should just change your plans now, because we’re going to do this the way we’ve always made big decisions; majority rules. Seattle it is.”

“Majority rules going to the Aladdin or the Paramount, not major life decisions.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Stanley the Manley.”

“Richie--“

“Shhhhh,” Eddie leaned over Richie and cupped Stan’s cheeks. “If you yell, you encourage him,” Eddie said gravely. 

Stan’s lips twitched and then his hands were under Eddie’s armpits. He tugged Eddie over and Eddie went easily, crawling over Richie to sit in Stan’s lap. “We’re keeping Eddie,” Stan declared. 

“What? No way! Eddie Spaghetti!”

“Not my name,” Eddie snuggled against Stan’s chest. 

“Edward Spaghedward,” Richie said. 

“What the fuck,” Ben whispered. 

“Majority rules,” Mike said, fluffing Eddie’s hair. “It’s four against one.”

“Team up with me,” Richie said, whirling around to look at Bev and Ben. “Guys. _Guys_.”

“Sure--“ 

“Hang on,” Bev said, holding a hand up to silence Ben. “What do you bring to the table?”

“I mean,” Richie stood up, his arms out. “Look at me.”

“Pass. Look at him,” Bev said, indicating Ben. Ben _glowed_. “What else you got?”

“I have more weed,” Richie said seriously. He sat back down. After a moment of thought, Beverly nodded and extended her arm. Richie whooped and crawled into her side, kissing up and down her neck and cheek. “I am your eternal love slave!” 

“Richie!” Bev laughed, turning her head and catching Richie’s lips with her own. “Mmm. Get the weed, though.”

Richie grinned, wolflike, and leaned up to kiss Ben full on the mouth. “I’ll be your love slave too, Haystack.” Ben rolled his eyes, but kissed Richie back lightly, holding Bev in one arm and Richie in the other. 

“Hang on,” Bill said. He shimmied out from between Mike and Stan and crawled over to Ben, Richie and Beverly. “I’m in with you guys.”

“Bill,” Eddie gasped, scandalized. 

“Well, I’d like more w-weed,” Bill said. 

“Oh? Come to your drug daddy,” Richie purred and Bill laughed, moving up to wrap his arms around Richie’s waist. Richie pulled Bill close. “Majority rules,” Richie grinned, kissing one of the fresh hickies on Bills throat. Bill shivered, smiling bashfully. “Come on guys, resistance is futile. Join the winning team.”

“I don’t even remember what we’re debating over,” Eddie said seriously, looking between Stan and Mike. Mike laughed, a big, hearty sound, and Stan grinned. 

“If I join you, do I get a kiss from you too, Richie?” Mike asked; Bill was already pulling at him by the leg of his shorts and Mike took Bill’s hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“Mikey, I’ll give you whatever you want,” Richie said, leaning over until his lips connected with Mike’s. It was chaste and sweet and when they broke apart, Bill crawled into Mike’s arms and replaced Richie’s mouth with his own, sighing. 

Stan poked his fingers against Eddie’s hip. “I’m standing my ground,” he said. “Mostly because I don’t want to kiss Richie, and that seems obligatory over there.”

“I’d like to kiss Richie,” Eddie said. He wiggled in Stan’s lap, looking up at him. “You really don’t know what you’re missing.” 

“I’ll have to settle for the transitive property,” Stan said, leaning in and kissing Eddie soundly. Eddie giggled and sighed, kissing Stan back delicately. It wasn’t bad, just different; Stan’s mouth was smaller than Richie’s and his kiss was lighter, more methodical, and borderline platonic. Richie kissed like he was hungry and had something to prove, like he wanted to pull Eddie apart piece by piece and take his sweet time putting him back together. Eddie doubted that anybody kissed quite like Richie Tozier. He and Stan pulled apart and Eddie saw, dazed, that Richie was looking at him, eyes absolutely ravenous. 

“Eds,” Richie said, and Eddie went to him and beyond him to kiss Ben’s cheek, both of them grinning. “Oh, you bitch. I bet your mom wouldn’t ignore me.” 

“Shut up, Trashmouth,” Stan said. Richie whipped his head around to look at him and Stan blanched, throwing his hands up defensively. “No way. No _way_ , Richie.”

“C’mon, Stanny, you’re the only one who’s yet to feel the miracle of these sweet lips.”

“Richie, the only miracle about your mouth would be if it sealed shut forever,” Stan grimaced, and Richie was on him instantly, trying to smash their mouths together. Stan gasped and grunted through his nose and there was a sharp moment of tension where it seemed like Richie’s attempted kiss might end up more fistfight than smooch. Stan grabbed Richie’s shoulders and held him back, eyes like flint. “You have _no_ idea, what you’re getting yourself into, Tozier.” Richie stared at him, eyes wide and opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t you dare fucking talk,” Stan hissed. “Unless I _tell you to talk_.” Eddie did not miss the hard shiver that ran through Bill, or the way that his eyes glazed. Mike leaned down to whisper something in his ear, inaudible.

“If you want me to be quiet how about you fucking _make me_?” Richie grinned widely, jutting his chin up. 

“Boys,” Bev said, rolling her eyes. Ben’s head was on top of hers. “We get it. You both have huge dicks. You’re going to hurt each other.”

Richie pouted. “We are not, mom.” Stan blinked, still looking slightly dazed and kind of furious. 

“ _Boys_ ,” Beverly says sternly. 

“C’mon, St-Stan,” Bill said, smiling and flushed. He moved out of Mike’s lap to run his hands up the tense planes of Stan’s back, dropping tender kisses over his shoulders and the back of his neck. 

“Put a shirt on,” Stan grumbled at Richie, face flushed, his hair a wild array around his head. He slid back to lean in with Mike and Bill. Mike wrapped an arm around Stan’s waist, kissing him gently and Bill grinned at him, a suggestive quirk to one of his eyebrows.

“That’s fine, Stanley. Eventually you’ll give in to my masculine wiles.”

“As if,” Stan grumbled.

“Onto the best one, sorry to everybody else; Eddie,” Richie grinned. He crawled to Eddie, scooping him into his arms and kissing his cheeks, then his forehead. “Lover boy, my favorite one to smooch.” Eddie laughed, and their lips connected, and he sighed as Richie sucked his bottom lip. He ran his hands up through Richie’s wild hair and tugged, making Richie groan. He loved their friends; he’d kiss each and every one of them, over and over, but none of the others made desire shoot through his body like Richie did. He felt arousal tingling in his lips and fingers by the time they parted, and Richie was looking at him through hazy eyes, his lips puffy and spit-slick. 

“Fucking love you,” Richie whispered. 

“Fucking love you too,” Eddie said. He pressed their foreheads together and watched Richie’s eyelashes flutter. 

“God,” Richie whispered, reopening his eyes to stare into Eddie’s. “You’re so--“

“No,” Eddie smiled. Richie smiled too. “ _You’re_ so.”

“Oh, gag,” Bev laughed from behind them. “It’s like you guys just fell in love right here, right now, in front of us.”

“It’s sweet,” Ben said softly. “Very sweet.”

“Yes, but the rest of us stopped making out with each other, like, three minutes ago, but by all means, continue,” Stan said. He’d calmed down substantially; Bill was still pressing kisses into his hair and he was leaning back against Mike’s chest. 

“Were we still deciding something?” Mike asked. He was finishing off the blunt still being passed around, swathed in the arms and legs of Bill and Stan, looking like the happiest man on planet earth. 

“Yes,” Richie said, seriously. “Who was going to attend to the husbandly duties, regarding Eddie’s mom. Personally, I’d like to volunteer my services--“ Eddie pinched Richie’s nipple, hard. “ _Ow_ , Eddie, your mom doesn’t want damaged merchandise.” Eddie just stared at Richie and twisted. “OW!”

“Stan did tell you to put a shirt on,” Ben said solemnly. Beverly laughed.

“W-we’ll have to plan visits, lots of visits,” Bill said. He looked up at Mike. “You and Ben are the only two with cars. We’ll have to p-plan extensively.” 

“I think the obvious thing to do is a road trip,” Ben said. They all turn to look at him, and he smiles, a shy blush blossoming over his features. “Think about it. We stay together until the west coast, we make some stops to camp, visit landmarks. We drop Stan off in LA, Richie, Eddie and Bill in Seattle, I’m in Chicago, and Bev can ride with Mike back up through NYC, terminating in Maine.”

“That’s the obvious thing?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since we’ve said our schools,” Ben admitted.

“I think it’s brilliant,” Mike said. “I can rent a u-haul, Ben can too, and we’ll pack them super full. I don’t think anybody’s moving anything excessive, right?”

“N-no, that’s a great idea,” Bill smiled. “O-one last hurrah?”

“Before the next hurrah,” Richie insisted.

* * *

It was dark by the time that Richie and Eddie walked to Eddie’s house, their clasped hands swinging between them. Eddie still felt fuzzy and light on his feet, his stomach full of pizza and champagne. His future seemed open and clear, a paved path running before him, past the horizon line. Even his house, a place that he’d come to resent and fear in equal measures, felt safe when he stopped at his stoop with Richie

“Your stop, nerd,” Richie said kindly. He bent down and kissed Eddie softly on the mouth. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “I’ll call you when I wake up.”

Richie grinned at him, kissed him one more time, and started off down the street. Eddie sighed, happily, and walked into his house. He took off his shoes neatly by the door and walked into the living room. His mom was there, as she always was, and for the first time in months, Eddie didn’t feel the shame and guilt of a buried secret in his stomach like hot coals. He stooped down and kissed her temple and she looked up at him, surprised. 

“Hi, Mama,” Eddie said. He sat across from her favorite chair on the couch. “I have to talk to you.” 

Sonia still looked surprised. “Eddie Bear,” she says. “I know you do.” She stood up, and walked over to the television. She turned the TV off and reached behind it, pulling out a thick sheaf of papers. She re-seated herself in her armchair and set the papers down on the coffee table between them. “Do you have something that you want to tell me?”

Eddie felt his heart race and his stomach drop. He reached over with shaking hands and leafed through the papers; they were letters, all of them, responses in flat envelopes and packets, informational brochures and colorful post cards, from every single school that he had applied to. Every single one on Richie’s list.

“You kept these from me,” Eddie whispered. His heart leapt at the return address on a particularly large package; it was from the University of Washington. “TIME SENSITIVE MATERIAL” was stamped on the top corner, bold and military-straight. “Why did you do this?”

“Do you have something to tell me?” Sonia repeated, and the look in her eyes was deadly serious. “Why would you be getting these letters, Eddie?”

“Mom, these are addressed to me, it’s my--“

“Who would be sending you these letters, Edward, when you’re going to U-Maine?”

“I never said that,” Eddie said. He grabbed the mail and held it on his lap in a pile. “I-I’m going to Seattle. The University of Washington. With Richie.”

“That boy,” Sonia said calmly. “is a hooligan. He’s a terrible influence and a terrible child. You think that I don’t know everything? What you boys get up to in your room when you think I’m not listening?” Eddie flushed. He felt sick, suddenly, breathless and nauseous. “I don’t care who you love, Eddie. You’re my son. I’ll still love you if you want to live with a man, _that way_. But not that boy, he’s no good for you; he’ll leave you on a street corner in Seattle at the first pair of new legs that open for him. You think I don’t know his type?”

“Stop, Mama,” Eddie choked out. “You’re saying terrible things.”

“You’re going to stay home,” Sonia said, her voice a wash of grim calm. “You’re going to go to U-Maine, and you’re going to be a good boy and not consider this foolishness a moment longer. Your father, bless his _soul_ , would die all over again if he could see the very image of you abandoning your mother.” 

“Richie loves me,” Eddie said. “And I love him. And it’s a good school. I’m going.”

His mother smiled at him in a twisted imitation of sympathy. “It’s called being a young man, and being infatuated. It isn’t love.” 

“It _is_.”

“Eddie Bear, you’re so young, you have plenty of chances--“

“I’m nineteen years old!” Eddie yelled. “Christ, I’m going to be twenty in October, mom! I’m not a baby! I’m a grown fucking _man_!”

“Do not talk to your mother in that tone of voice,” Sonia hissed, and Eddie saw her carefully composed mask of calm start to crack around the edges. 

Eddie set his jaw. “I’m going to Seattle. And that’s what it is. And I’m going with Richie, and you can’t stop me. I love you, Mama, but you can’t keep me here.”

Sonia sat back, observing Eddie from the bottom half of her bifocals. “I can’t,” she agreed. “But I don’t have to help you ruin your life, either. You don’t get your college fund if you go to Seattle. That’s that.”

Eddie could practically feel the color draining from his face. His hands were numb. “Mom,” he whispered, horrified. “Dad _left me_ that money for school.”

“He left it to _me_ , to give to you,” Sonia said. “Which I’ll be happy to do when you _come to your senses_.” 

Eddie stood, clutching his mail. He was angry and shocked and shaking, and he knew that if he gave in now, then that was the end for him. His future would be shuttered off behind a gate, the key to it clutched in Sonia’s fat fist, lost to him forever. “I’ll work,” he said, pushing as much finality into his tone as he can. “I’ll make it happen. You can’t threaten me, and talk shit about my friends, and _use_ Dad to make me listen.” 

“You’re grounded,” Sonia said simply. 

“You can’t ground me!” 

“See if I can’t,” Sonia said. “None of your friends are to step foot into this house, especially the Tozier boy. The locks are getting changed tomorrow. I’ll nail your window shut. I’ll rip the phone out of the wall, Edward, I _will_.” 

“Do it,” Eddie hissed. “I fucking dare you.” He turned, mail bundled up into his arms, and left. “I’m leaving in three weeks!” He yelled, “You can’t fucking stop me.”

“Well, we’ll see,” Sonia said. “We’ll see.” 

Eddie ran up the stairs and slammed his door, heaving. He threw the letters onto his bed and tore into the package from Seattle, fingers shaking, and collapsed with a sob when he read the first line: “Congratulations, Mr. Kaspbrak! We’re excited to officially welcome you to the 1998 graduating class of the University of Washington at Seattle.” 

The rest of the letter was blurry to Eddie. He set it aside gently, wiping his eyes. His future was still open, after all. 

It took Eddie about forty minutes to go through the rest of his mail. He was accepted to all but three schools; he had been politely declined from Nashville and CalTech, and waitlisted at UCLA. He looked at all of the mail spread over his bed and came to a decision, as easy as switching a light. 

Twenty minutes later, he had two backpacks jammed full of clothes and he was ready to go. He folded the Seattle paperwork carefully, sticking it into one of the front pockets of his shorts, sliding his inhaler into the other. He looked around his room carefully. After a moment, he grabbed a picture of his friends off of his desk, and shoved it into his pocket beside the Seattle papers. He had all of the money that he had saved up at the bottom of one of his bags in a torn envelope off of his bed: a little under $600. 

He left his books and comics, most of his clothes, and all of his records. Satisfied, Eddie turned off the light and left his room briskly, taking the stairs down two at a time. 

“Edward?” He heard his mother getting up from the armchair, slow under the weight of her bulk, as he put his shoes on. 

“You’re a coward,” he said, tying his sneakers. His voice was high and nervous and his fingers were shaking. “But I’m not a coward. I love you, Mama, so much, but if you don’t want to move forward with me, I’ll go right by you.”

“Eddie Bear,” Sonia said. Her skin was pallid. “Your father would hate to see you like this. What about your inhaler? Your medicine? Hmm? What about your _tuition_?”

“I’ll get a doctor in _Seattle_ ,” Eddie said. He had one backpack over his shoulders and one clutched in his hand. “I’m not going to sit here and be your prisoner.”

“Be my prisoner?” Sonia wailed. “My _prisoner_?! Who loved you all of these years, Eddie, when you got picked on in school, when you were alone? Who raised you, took care of you?”

Guilt stabbed at Eddie’s chest and stomach; sharp, cold knives of it. “You tried,” he said, crossing his arms over his mid section. 

“What?”

“You _tried_ to raise me,” Eddie felt tears pooling in his eyes. He wiped them away, furiously, because Sonia wouldn’t see his son’s distress and terrible anguish. She would only see ammunition. “But all of the good things that I am, I’m…I am them in _spite_ of you, Mama.”

“Eddie,” Sonia wept. She reached out to him and Eddie backed up several steps, grabbing the knob of the front door in one hand. “Stay, Eddie. We can talk about this. I can make you understand if you’ll just listen to me.”

Eddie shook his head. “No. I have to go. You know that, and you know I mean it. It’s…” He felt a choked gasp wrench from him and he covered his mouth with his free hand. “It’s my only chance, Mommy.”

Sonia’s arms dropped to her sides. “When you fail out there,” She said softly, wiping her eyes. “When you fail, and when that Tozier boy leaves you in the cold- or _worse_. When he fools around and gives you something he can’t take back and makes you sick, Eddie Bear, really sick, remember that your mother will _always_ love you. Even then. Even when nobody else will.” She turned away from Eddie, her shoulders hunched, and shuffled back towards her arm chair. 

Horror had etched itself into every line of Eddie’s being, his posture, the clenched, shaking fist on the doorknob. With a sharp, final sob, he wrenched the door open, stormed outside, and slammed the portal to his mother’s house shut, as loud as he could.

His rage got him halfway to Richie’s before he could even bring himself to slow down. His thoughts were whirling at a mile a minute, his heart pounding at a pace to match. He sucked two blasts off of his inhaler and shoved it back into his pocket, wiping his mouth and marching on. It was an unseasonably cold night for mid-June, and by the time that Eddie reached Richie’s house he was sweaty and cold at the same time, his cheeks covered in dried tears. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door, suddenly feeling anxious as he wiped his face off.

Richie’s father, Wentworth, answered the door. He was tall and lanky like his son, but otherwise he looked very little like him. Richie was the spitting image of his mother. “Eddie Kaspbrak?” Went said, surprised. “What brings you here so late?”

“I, um,” Eddie was tongue-tied, because during the thirty minute walk to Richie’s house, he hadn’t thought of one credible reason for showing up a hair before ten at night. “Sleepover. Plans. With Richie.”

“Well, you’re a little late,” Went said, but he stood aside to let Eddie in nonetheless. “The idiot’s in his room, sleeping off whatever you guys drank yesterday.”

“I’ll just go up,” Eddie said, taking off his shoes. “Thank you, Mr. Tozier.” 

“It’s always easier when one of you guys is here to distract him so he not playing his guitar as loud as he can.” Went waved Eddie in and Eddie rushed past him, up the stairs and into Richie’s room. He shut the door behind him, locking it for good measure. 

True to his father’s word, Richie was fast asleep, hugging a pillow, his mouth wide open. On his bedside table sat his ancient coke bottle glasses, the ones that Victor stomped out, all of the broken pieces covered in dry glue. There was a new pair there too, all sleek, bold black frames. Richie must have gotten them when he had gotten his contacts. 

Eddie set his bags down and went to Richie. “Hey,” he whispered, stroking back black curls from his boyfriend’s sleep-warmed face. “Rich. Wake up.”

“Mmn, no,” Richie groaned, turning his face into his pillow. “Fuckouttahere.”

Eddie felt a smile curling his mouth, in spite of himself. “Baby, move over,” he said, pulling his shirt off over his head. He made quick work of his shorts and his socks and got into Richie’s incredibly warm bed in his underwear, shuddering at the temperature shift. 

“Whassup, Eds,” Richie said, finally cracking open his eyes. Eddie leaned in and kissed him. “’M I dreaming?”

“What a boring dream,” Eddie quipped, and Richie chuckled, pulling Eddie close to his chest and kissing the top of his head. 

“Even dream Eds gets off some good ones,” Richie mumbled, rubbing Eddie’s back. “You okay? Wasn’t expecting this.”

Eddie was about to tell Richie that he was fine, to go back to sleep, he’d explain everything in the morning. Richie opened his eyes, squinting at him, dazed, and Eddie burst into tears instead. 

“Eddie, Eddie. Baby,” Richie said, instantly awake. He sat up and Eddie crashed into his arms, wailing against his shoulder. “Shhh, Eddie.” Richie cradled his boyfriend against him, rocking him in his arms. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re _safe_ , Eddie.” 

“I kn-know,” Eddie sniffled, clutching at Richie. “I’m being s-so _stupid_.”

“Shut up, thinking you’re stupid is stupid,” Richie said and Eddie laughed, cracking a grin through his tears. “Wanna tell me what happened? C’mon, here,” Richie situated himself against the wall behind his bed, settling Eddie into his lap. 

“My m-mom,” Eddie said. “I left.”

“Yeah. You’re here.”

“No, Rich. I _left_.” Richie raised his eyebrows, his eyes wide. “For good. She…we had it out. She found out about Seattle.” He couldn’t bring himself to repeat any of the other awful things that his mother had said; about Richie, about his father. “It was bad.”

Richie ran his fingertips over Eddie’s ruddy cheeks. “Whatever you need,” he said softly. “You know, I’ll give it to you. You can stay here until we go. And we’ll go together. And we never have to look back if we don’t want to.” Eddie nodded. His face was scrunched up and he felt his lip trembling again. Richie cupped his face and kissed his nose. “Baby, you kill me when you cry. I don’t know what to do. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it. You want me to break up with your mom? I’ll do it. Honest.”

Eddie surprised himself by laughing. “Wow, Rich,” He sniffled, still giggling. “ _Wow_. Guess we’re getting serious, huh?”

“Yeah,” Richie said, brushing back Eddie’s hair. “Guess we are.”

Eddie looked up at Richie. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I woke you. I wish I didn’t.”

“Nah, you little cutie pie,” Richie mumbled. He flopped back onto his side and pulled Eddie with him, holding him tight to his chest. “Always wake me up. I want you to.”

“Sleep, Richie,” He sighed, pressing his face to Richie’s chest. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Richie yawned, rubbing his fingers reflexively over the back of Eddie’s neck. “Love you, Eddie.” He said, and Eddie loved him back, right down to his core, as easy as breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are just THE BEST. Seriously, your feedback keeps me so motivated and engaged. I love hearing all of your nice words, so please, keep letting me know what you think!
> 
> Li'l Headcannons:
> 
> Ben knows everybody's coffee order, their favorite foods, and their favorite drinks. He's the type of dude that'll take care of any single one of them after a hard night of drinking, and he's have two aspirin, a glass of water waiting in the AM. He's a total mom friend.
> 
> Stan and Bill have a very rough thing. Mike tempers them out. 
> 
> Mike and Ben are the only two with cars because they're the only two with jobs :) Mike at his grandpa's farm, delivering meat, and Ben at the library. 
> 
> Eddie father died when he was seven. It precipitated his and Sonia's move to Derry and Eddie misses his father terribly. It's still too difficult to talk about. 
> 
> Eddie and Richie met on the first day of the third grade. Eddie was swinging and he accidentally kicked Richie in the face and knocked out one of his front baby teeth. Eddie screamed and cried for _hours_. Richie thought it was hysterically funny. 
> 
> Stan and Richie fight and bicker and wrestle like it’s going out of style, but they ALWAYS have each other’s backs, when it gets real.
> 
> Part four is chugging down the tracks and will be arriving at a station near you soon! Thanks again <3  
> xoxoxo  
> waxagent

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back, everybody! I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. The rest will be up soon, so keep your eyes peeled!
> 
> xoxoxo


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